


Domestically Feral

by threesipsmore



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:39:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6083151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threesipsmore/pseuds/threesipsmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poison in every form. A collection of stories from General to Explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Broken Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The bus broke down near your house, I know we’re not super close but I live three miles away and this storm is horrible, can i stay over?” au

“I’m sorry?”

He’s absolutely drenched, sopping red hair falling into his face, baggy white shirt thin and pasty, that heavy jacket he had crowded around his shoulders dark with rain.

“The bus,” he jerks his thumb back at the street, “it broke down. They’re calling maintenance, but like, the driver just kind of up and left and I live three miles from here- told the bastard I’d walk but well-“

He holds his arms out just as the thunder rolls in. This kid, he’s the same asshat that plays games in his biology class. Had he known he’d lived here, or had the bastard just been _that_ lucky?

“Yeah, yeah I guess, just, y’know, tap your shoes against the doorframe before you come in.”

 The kid grins and so there he is, dripping onto his wood-paneled entryway, fingers running through his hair.

Law digs through his towels for something clean, hoping desperately his parent don’t come back anytime soon to find some vagrant college kid in their living room.

“So you live alone,” Kid calls from the entryway. Law snorts.

“You think I can afford a house on my own at my age, one with sprinklers and instant coffee? My parents own this place. Not everyone lives on campus, y’know.” 

He throws a nice dark one at him, just in case Eustass had been in one of those fights he’s known for- just in case there’s any fresh cuts that might still be weeping.

“Cool, thanks.”

“You want something warm?”

And then Eustass is stripping, scrubbing at his hair with that towel as he peels off his pants, kicking his muddy shoes off towards the wall. 

“I’m sorry,” Law finds himself repeating, a strong twitch in his jaw, “but _what_ are you doing?” 

Eustass glances up at him in his briefs and has the gall to smile. “Dude I was soaked. No way I can sit down anywhere without leaving an ass-print.”

Law tries to think of something clever but abandons his mind for something simpler. “Alright then, something warm?”

Eustass leaves his pants there by the door in a wet pile, accepting another towel for his waist as he follows him into the kitchen.

Law has a gaudy yellow kettle on the burner, already chewing on conversation topics. Eustass was obviously only in biology to fill his general courses. Law, however, had special interest in dissection and germs.

What did Eustass usually do? 

“So you like games.” 

Eustass looks up from the island, the stool a bit small for him. The smaller towel's draped around his neck, and he uses the corner of it to wipe his face dry. He smiles a little.

“You been watching me, eh?”

“How’d you know I lived here?”

Eustass shrugs, chin in palm now. “You rode the bus once, and sometimes when I jog I see you out there gardening. You’re terrible at it. Everything keeps dying, that’s why you bought flowers, right, to cover up the rotting corpses of those poor tulips?” 

Law chokes on the bagel he’d culled from the pantry.

“They were carnations.” 

He realizes his mistake now. He shouldn’t have said anything, now this idiot thinks that he’s been watching him like he’s actually _interested_ or something. But then again, Eustass had done practically the same thing, so at least they’re being awkwardly creepy together.

“You’re really into biology, right,” Eustass points out, “you’re like, the only person that actually takes notes. Why’s that?”

The kettle shrieks and Law removes it with warm ears. So he really has been watching him.

“People are amazing,” is all Law says, not meaning to sound as cryptic as he does.

“People, huh,” Eustass murmurs, “and just what do you know about people?” 

Law picks through the tea boxes, some empty, others fostering mismatched packages. “Earl or citrus?”

“Citrus,” Eustass suddenly says from behind him, and Law tenses up. When had he gotten so close?

“What do you know about people,” Eustass repeats.

He smells like rain, but he’s also warm at this distance. He tears at the citrus packet slowly, wondering if he should just spout the eight most disgusting digestive track infections he can think of. His mouth betrays him.

“Admittedly not as much as I could.”

What game was Law trying to play here? He turns around with two cups in hand, realizing now that Eustass is rather tall and still rather close. So he hands him the mug and stares at that wet shirt while sipping.

“You’re fun.”

Not really. He’s the opposite of fun. His idea of fun is playing scrabble with Bepo. Sometimes Penguin gardens with him, but that’s just so he can bury his drugs under the flower bed. Shachi likes to fuck up his toilets so they won’t flush.

“You’re going to be a doctor, right? That’s why you carry around such big books?”

Law can only hum, torn between a hard shot at the crotch or a gentle press.

“Then why don’t you teach me a little about the body?”

That’s the second time he chokes that day, except he’s laughing now, gasping, and Eustass is just smiling and he says something cheesy about liking Law’s laugh so Law drags him back to his room and lets him take off his clothes.

Eustass, in all actuality, appears to know a lot about the body. He knows where to press with his fingers, and just how deep to go before rubbing. He knows where to put those big hands of his, and where to skim those calloused fingers. He likes to have Law sitting in his lap, grinning up at him with hazy eyes as he thumbs at the softer parts. 

He knows that the slower he licks behind the ear the more Law’s leg twitches, and the rougher he talks the more his dick jumps. It's something he takes great pleasure in abusing. After all, Law excuses, the mind _was_ an erogenous zone.

His tongue knows how to distract him from the pain, curling around his teeth and lips. 

He also knows how to effectively jump out of a window discretely just as the front door opens, slipping into Law’s too tight jeans and thanking the high heavens the storm has cleared.

But better than all that, he knows how to be a gentleman and leave his number on Law’s midterm essay with a sloppy star.

 

(later he’ll call and Eustass will insist they’re dating and Law can only agree because it seems like Eustass knows everything)


	2. Congratulations to the 7th and 8th Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I saw you trying to hit the “door close” button in the elevator but I made it in and then I pushed every single button to make you later for work, but now we’re stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don’t know what to say other than “you started it” AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh semi-porn I guess I don't even know.

His coffee maker implodes and the kettle’s on vacation at his neighbor’s house, never to return because that’s what neighbors do, they steal your miniature hello kitty kettles and the third page from from every other Sunday newspaper and do creepy sacrificial things at three in the morning with them.

The woman from across the hallway tells him calmly but quite seriously that he needs to stop eating her cat food, and really, he has no idea what the hell she’s on about. 

A three-quarters blind pigeon and a rat have a fight to the death inside the 8th Avenue subway line, the school kids crowded about in drooling fascination as Law sways there, entirely too tired of this shit.

The pigeon shits and keels over, the rat scurrying under the seats in gloating victory.

By the time he makes it to corporate office the third column elevator doors are wide open, and Law blesses their steely, bolted arms- except that the devil itself is inside trying to nonchalantly jam his finger at the _close door button._

So Law takes off, his tie whipping past him as he taps his card on the reader and hurdles through the security barrier- that devil had no idea what’d hit him, a blur of black bouncing in just in the nick of time.

So he stands there, huffing, and that large demon stands there, stiff and quite obviously irked, and Law straightens himself out, pulling at his tie. Suddenly he appreciates how that rat must’ve felt, when the pigeon had shit itself. 

He notices the illuminated _50th Floor_ and a sinister thought grips his hand as he leans over to run his fingers from _49_ to _G_ in a flurry of madness _._

The demon drops his tray of salted coffee, staring at the christmas tree of illuminated floor numbers in absolute horror. Law imagines the puddle of coffee to be this man’s sanity puking its guts out.

A _ding_ and they’re on the third floor, the mouth of the elevator revealing a barren hallway. Someone had taped _third base is in your face_ to the wall, though Law wondered why a sticky note would need tape. By the tenth floor Law’s pulling at his tie even more, hoping it’ll choke him and he’ll just asphyxiate right here in this puddle of coffee.

All he can say by the twentieth is, _you started it._

The other man twitches every time they stop, as if fighting the urge to just go and use the damn stairs. But no, Law realizes with a brush of his cufflinks, that man was too proud to step off now. 

The thirtieth floor reveals a woman with a box of sesame bagels, who steps in only to look on in horror at the devilishly twinkling floor buttons. She subsequently steps off and that man thunks his head against the closing door in utter anguish.

No one stays in their elevator for long, all shitting themselves as they slide back off. Some get stuck before realizing what’d happen, and just stare with obscenely open mouths at the monstrosity before them. 

Others slip in the coffee and leave looking as if they’d thought this was some sort of mobile restroom.

A kid hops on once, and, noticing the previous levels and their rather dim state, dutifully smashes their hand against them in abstract nefarious behavior, candy goo marrying floor 7 and floor 8. 

It’s then Law realizes he’d fucked up.

He only needed to wait it out until the 48th floor. 

“You’re the devil,” that man whines pitifully. Law chokes on air, because it’s just that kind of day where even the atmosphere is trying to fuck him over.

“You were the one trying to escape socialization you- you _ape!”_

And then his boss steps in, a great big golden trevally fisherman with a protruding lower lip.

His pearl plated personal elevator must be broken today, or maybe the doorman had called in sick and he had just sorta wandered in by mistake. He doesn't even need to say anything, the other guy reaching around him to press the top floor ever so dutifully. Kiss-ass.

This was it, he was going to be fired- how long did it take for the 401k to kick in?

His boss had a heart of gold to him- in that it was weighed down heavily by monetary value, with the emotional capability of a glittery rock.

He's just staring at the horror Law had birthed. "What in all the hells is this.”

If Law slips in that puddle and knocks his head against the wall will the company pay for damages or will his boss have that demon over there eat the body to hide the evidence?

"A kid, sir," the devil says, "she also dropped a tray of lattes. Must've been with a visiting parent.”

They wait there in silence and Law practically jolts off on his floor, slumping down into his cubicle chair with a staccato sigh. "You're late.”

* * *

 

So he knows that man’s on the 50th floor, two above him so obviously the bastard is going to think he's better. 

Those lattes had smelled salty, so Law had taken a shot in the dark and had gotten the salted caramel- but now he's there at the entrance to a floor a bit nicer than his own with spacious cubes and plush chairs. The windows make up the entirety of the walls, and he swears the ceiling is just bit higher here.

This must be international finance.

It's gotten a bit dark out, and some of those nice desks are empty. Law would've come up sooner but he'd had to psyche himself up for embarrassed appreciation and, well, an hour before leaving was usually his lunch time anyway.

That devilish head is the furthest one from him, ducked as it scribbles something down. He wanders on over, lukewarm cup in hand.

He doesn't notice him at first, and Law peers over at the stat sheets, wondering who'd taught the ape such neat tricks.

And then Law’s shadow startles him and that startles Law and that lukewarm coffee ends up in his face and all over those pretty little stat sheets.

So Law just kind of stands there, and that guy sits there, and he kind of just _gently_ sets the near-empty cup right there by the stapler and wanders off.

* * *

 

The next day they’re in that elevator and he seems to recognize him, tensing up as if Law’s about to dump more coffee on him, and Law, in embarrassment, shuffles about.

So they just stand there, the two of them, in communal silence. 

And then that guy presses an odd number, and then another one, until they’ve got an extra five floors to stop by before theirs and Law has to stop him before he makes this any worse. “What are you doing?”

He gets a side glance.

“How many floors did it take last time to get you to talk? Twenty? Thirty? I believe you called me an _‘ape’_.”

Law huffs, an empty hallway before them then gone again. 

“Why?”

“Well,” he drawls, “spilling sugar-water on someone’s face might be how _your_ species says hello, but humans generally just introduce themselves.”

As if. 

“Is that what you are, a human? Because humans don’t typically prefer isolation in a elevating metal death trap.”

“Shy ones do.”

That puts a little white rabbit on the tracks of his train of thought. 

“You? You, the big demon ape, is _shy?_ ”

A grin stretches across his face. “Well, no, not me, but you were asking what kind of human preferred isolation, I was just giving you an answer.”

He doesn’t like him. Not one bit.

“You’re a moron.”

“Buy me coffee.”

Law snorts. “Not on your life.”

“Buy me dinner.”

Law hesitates. “Not on my life.”

What was he playing at?

And then the big boss Fishman steps in from the thirty-eighth floor, a polished woman behind him, arms brimming in files. Law slides to the side, as does his companion, who, again, reaches to press the top floor.

After a moment, the big fish talks.

“Eustass, good work on the Yahtki Project.”

That demonic Eustass fellow keeps his cool, hands in his pocket as he thanks the fifth wealthiest man in the country for his kind words.

“You’ll be attending the charity tonight, I want a brief summary of the mechanics behind the project on my desk by the end of the day. An easy read, nothing wordy.”

Eustass complies without hesitation.

* * *

 

So Eustass likes to brag about these parties he’s always going to, and Law hates to admit it, but he remembers that coffee-stained stat sheet, the multi-colored sticky notes pasted everywhere, and the keyboard littered in oily fingerprints from a hard day’s work. Eustass would appear to be quite intelligent, despite his thuggish manners. 

“She’s some sort of biochemist,” he says, his suit jacket missing today as they enjoy a smooth ride up to the top.

He seems to realize that Law is zoning out and taps his foot against the faux-porcelain floor. “Go with me.”

Law hums distractedly.

“It’s at the music hall tonight. A lot of important people will be there. You might be some small-time accountant, but even you can fake an appearance.”

Wait.

“The fuck you say?”

“I’ll walk you home,” Eustass says, getting off twenty floors too early.

Law rides the rest of the way up in questionable silence.

* * *

 

Law had thought he’d had the upper hand when it came to higher education, but Eustass here, with a mere bachelors in Financing, outtalks Law every time, his graduate diploma be damned.

He follows him home too, that seems to be the important part really. He’d been waiting there at the open entryway to his floor, leaning against the thin plaster wall that lined the outer hallway, hip cocked a little as he grinned over at him. Of course, nobody in accounting was fucking blind.

“What a shitty apartment.”

“You can really go fuck yourself. Seriously, have at it.”

Eustass had already told the big boss man that Law was coming, so of course the obligation sets real heavy on his mind as he cruises through his suits.

Eustass dawdles about his apartment, picking at random things only to crunch his nose up in distaste. “You were such a creepy looking kid.”

“Was that before or after I took an interest in dissection,” Law calls from his room.

He can hear Eustass mumbling through the shitty walls, _you have an interest in dissection?_

“Oh yeah,” Law grins into the mirror, “let me tell you, nothing gets my blood pumping like a good pump of blood.”

Eustass stumbles over something in the living room.

* * *

 

The music hall is dark, velvety, and overall a dreary disappointment. However, the sterling afterparty was beyond fancy; it was the kind of sublime affair that offered fondue fountains and women with diamonds sewn into their eyelids. 

Eustass likes to comment under his breath about everybody likes he’s some sort of wisecrack comedian, though Law is entertained enough to appreciate the somewhat dark mumblings.

With this in mind Law casually drops by Eustass's office during lunch, chewing his sub loudly as people peer over at the no-name accountant leaning against the star financial advisor’s desk.

Eustass, bless his little heart, appears to notice those darling tattoos Law had gotten as a rebellious teenager, sliding his hand up Law’s arm as he pushes back the sleeve- and well that creates a whole new mess of tingling nerves up in his shoulder and neck. 

So Law jerks but Eustass holds onto him, thumb tracing the patterns. Most people ask what they mean, and Law’s generally good about bullshitting his nonsensical younger days, but Eustass says nothing and everything all at once. 

“I want to fuck you.”

Law drops his sub on that stat sheet and chokes a little.

* * *

 

Eustass never does comment on that. They ride the elevator together, per usual, and sometimes Eustass gets off early to visit a friend, sometimes he doesn’t. Law goes to another event with him, sipping champagne and watching acrobats walk across the wired ceiling of the room. In the corner the tigers had been chained, yawning. 

He never says those words again, and yet his eyes repeat them constantly. 

It’s somewhere between his home and his room that Law calls him a coward.

“What?”

Law fumbles about in his kitchen, weary from overtime as he scrounges up a pan and some eggs. Why was Eustass here again?

“You’re a coward,” Law nearly yawns, cracking two eggs onto the stove, “saying something like that, who do you think you are?”

Eustass watches him carefully. “Why does that make me a coward?”

Law moves to fiddle about on his phone as he flips the eggs. “Just, it’s such an easy thing to admit, isn’t it? I wanna fuck you. There’s no real merit behind it, like a diploma on cheap paper. I’d say your eyes are more dangerous than your mouth. They seem to be saying a bit more.”

Eustass rakes a tired hand through his hair, sloped across the couch. “What’re you going on about?”

Law shrugs, dumping the eggs onto a paper plate. 

“I’m just saying, it’s not a hard thing to say.”

“Then say it.”

Law looks him dead in the eyes, catching Eustass mid-stretch. “I wanna fuck.”

Eustass growls and he’s up and tugging at Law, the eggs be damned, and Law thinks he’ll never be able to fully enjoy food around Eustass, not if he’s so insistent in being a brat.

“Tell me, what was it that turned you on more,” Law asks, Eustass crowding him in against the narrow hallway wall, “the coffee in your face or the mushy sub bits I choked on.”

Eustass is tall enough that he can get away with propping his arm up above Law’s head and leaning down a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?”

Law doesn’t mind really, allowing Eustass to trace his lips with his tongue, mouth warm and slant against his own. 

And then he’s grabbing at Law’s hips with digging fingers, biting at the curve of his chin and Law finds he can’t help the unsteady twitch in his legs, baring his teeth at the sudden treatment. 

Eustass hoists him up, kneading the soft skin of his thighs as he nips at his ears, lapping behind them and breathing hotly against the slope of his neck. He grins there, a feral thing by the feel of it. 

“I’m not always a nice person,” Eustass seems to warn quietly, and Law scoffs. 

“I wasn’t aware you were ever a nice person.”

But he understands later, when Eustass has him pressed against the mattress with hands scrambling for purchase, nails digging into the wood of the headboard as the entirety of it rocks with each strangled moan. He understands with the slow drag of each thrust in between the crueler, harsher ones that have him panting wetly into the sheets. 

He tugs on Law’s hair sometimes, biting at his shoulders others. He likes to leave ribbons of red everywhere, little scratches and bruises that tingle when his pace quickens. Eustass pulls Law into his lap somewhere between the whining and the pleading, lifting him by his hips and it’s all Law can do to breathe, the air choking him as he struggles to swallow around the noises that escape.

Eustass murmurs against the column of his throat, Law shuddering. “Can you come for me?”

Law manages a feeble chuckle, “Eustass, at this point you so much as touch as my dick and I’ll come.”

Eustass quirks a brow at that, snapping his hips up only for Law’s hands to latch at his shoulders, thighs trembling. “Is that so?”

“Don’t get too cocky you red-haired demon. Just because you were blessed with a nice body doesn't mean you have talent, it just means that I’m a sucker for pectorals and hairless brows.”

Eustass laughs suddenly, kissing at Law’s neck as the noise rumbles deep within his chest. 

His hand to Law’s dick is what does it, large and rough and pen-stained. Law clutches at Eustass, breathless and shifting about as Eustass keeps him there, spilling hotly into him just as the smaller shudders out a cry.

* * *

 

The next morning finds them in that elevator, Eustass pushing the odd number every now and then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They won't all be smutty I swear. Or is this even smutty, it's like passive-smut.


	3. Language Barrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i don’t know what you’re saying, you don’t know what i’m saying, so apparently we’re playing charades to figure out what the fuck is going on”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @anhelkreep ahh I swear imma do that murder au I just got distracted ;~;

He was just trying to return a dog. It’s a beastly little shit zipped up into a cute facade of puppy glory. In short, it bites and hisses and does everything small dogs are infamous for.

But Law is a good guy. And Law happens to know that this particular breed of evil belongs to his neighbor, the foreign fellow with the questionable hair.

So he raps his knuckles against the peeling paint and waits, fingers clamped expertly about the dog’s snout as it growls and rumbles.

When no one comes he tries at it again, lips pinched in irritation. And here he was trying to be nice.

Another irate knock and there’s a dripping wet foreigner in the wedge of space before him, every sharp contour of his face revealing his annoyance.

He’s got this gangster mug to him, strong jaw and mean eyes. The dog stops growling and Law can only assume it senses the anger of its alpha.

“Hey,” he coughs a bit, “so this little rag doll’s been yipping and barking all up and down the stretch, scratching at walls and shit, so-“

That man is still glaring down at him, completely ignoring the dog and Law furrows his brow. How fucking rude.

“Hey, I get it, you’re scary. But you own a Pomeranian so you lose some thug points there, buddy. Now take your shitty, barking purse back.”

He all but shoves the dog into the guy’s chest, stalking away quickly.

He’s safe within his own home in ten steps.

* * *

 

The foreign guy is there in the communal laundry room of the complex, sitting atop one of the center tables with legs just long enough that his toes kiss the floor. He’s hunched over, and glances quietly over at Law when he teeters in with his load.

Luffy had shoved a bunch of blankets into his basket on his way out, some suspiciously stiff. They weren't even roommates anymore.

Foreign guy watches him as he shuffles about, slipping some coins into some machines and balancing himself against the opposite side of a further table, happy enough keeping his back to the man.

There’s a buzz and the plastic table groans when the guy slides off. Some open doors, some shuffling about, and then an angry grunt.

Suddenly he’s next to Law, towering over him and Law’s starting to wonder if the poor fellow had his mouth glued like that, all thin and straight and forever stern.

What are those noises?

He’s saying something, a great heap of somethings with smooth vowels and sharp curves of the tongue. Holy shit, he was _seriously_ _foreign._ Like, the kind that uses broken words to order take out.

He seems exasperated, hands motioning about before he heaves a great sigh and grabs at Law- Law, of course, stiffens up.

Then there’s the glint of silver and the guy is holding it up, a stolen coin from Law’s back pocket, pointing between them as if to say, _you give to me, yeah?_

Was this a shakedown?

He seems to sense Law’s hesitance, stuck between further attempts at explaining himself and just taking the damn thing.

Law can feel a scowl invading his face. What a fucking brute.

He gets tugged forward sharply and then motioned to follow and he really should give him a piece of his mind, it’s not like he’ll understand anyways so he could pretty much blow up and say whatever he wanted.

Oh, his clothes aren’t completely dry.

“Yeah, these things are like, from the 50s. They don’t always work so well.”

He doesn’t seem to like that answer. He’s grunting shoving more coins in moodily. Law catches ink from under the sleeve of that shirt, just carefully inching down his shoulder.

Ah.

That’s not good. That’s really not good.

He knew these parts. On his salary as someone that slaves away in a cubicle he’d chosen to live somewhere close to the inner workings of the city, somewhere public transportation didn't shy away from. 

He could see it now, though the flimsy white, a full on backsplash of color and ink.

This is one of those points in life where you just look the other way. So he does. He switches the settings on the dryer for the guy and offers a brief smile as a parting favor.

So the mobsters were bringing in foreign assets now. Or was he just here on personal business?

His buzzer goes off later, and he realizes then that’s he alone there in that room, and for some reason that makes him even more nervous.

* * *

 

Eustass Kid. That’s the name on his mail locker. He likes to think he’s pronouncing it right, but the southern name strikes his tongue a bit funny.

Eustass gets locked out of his apartment, standing there in that open stretch of balcony that shoulders all the doors. He’s lucky it’s summer at least.

Law slots in his own key, noticing fleetingly the man’s nice watch. Yep, definitely dangerous. He scurries in without a glance backwards.

It’s fine. These kinds of people were temporary. They probably just called in a favor from some distant family, something about sending in a brute to scare away local rivals. He’d be gone soon.

He does, however, pass the man by on his way out to dinner with Shachi and, after a moment’s consideration of his slouched form and the smoke stuffed between his lips (the manager always did take his sweet time) Law decides he looks pathetic there, this big, red-headed beast with an inked back slumped defeatedly at the foot of his door.

So he whisks back into his kitchen and drops a yogurt and a spoon by the man and saunters off, knowing he must be hungry with that sad face of his.

* * *

 

Law’s out one day with Penguin when he catches ink again. It’s not Eustass no, it’s someone much bigger and much meaner.

He’s starting to notice more and more of them congregating in the bar, and he puts his arm to Penguin’s and whispers that they should leave.

Mobsters were the unspoken voice of the city. They were the undercurrent that both fed and silenced the masses.

“Hey hey,” comes a smile, far too pleasing to the eye, “hard day at work?”

He’s got a hand on Penguin’s shoulder, this guy, dyed hair slicked back and Law’s own fingers tighten around his friend’s wrist.

“We were just leaving,” Law murmurs, but that guy isn’t exactly letting go and Penguin is fixated on his glass.

“Your friend doesn’t seem to mind,” the man is saying, his hand sliding down Penguin’s back and Law can feel the fluttering of Penguin’s pulse under his fingers.

If it came down to it, Law knew he wouldn’t be of much use. But he won’t let go.

“I don’t want you,” the man nods at him, amusement slipping from his gaze, “so you can just scram.”

He could, yeah, but that was the price for having friends. Every now and then a mobster wants in their pants and you gotta just put your foot down, even at the risk of getting it cut off. It's like an unspoken rule of friendship.

There’s a meaty fist to Law’s forearm, and then he’s yanked off and away, back thumping against the floor, and those unrelated continue drinking, those inked continue their cards.

He groans a bit, head rolling back a bit to catch sight of shiny black shoes stopping just short of him.

Those shoes lead to long slacks and a half-untucked shirt folded up at the elbows, hands stuffed in pockets.

Eustass is there looking down at him with a smoke in his mouth, brow cocked.

Well this is terrifying.

A stool falls and Penguin’s trying to jerk away from the guy and Eustass is looking over them, and Law can see his brain working it all out.

He plucks at his smoke and considers Law once more before he calls out to that man in that guttural language of his.

The man backs off so easily, so readily, that Law can hardly comprehend his own feet on the floor now, Penguin sidling up next to him, tugging at his arm, insisting they leave _now._

Eustass sits amongst that motley, uncivilized crew, half of them obviously not understanding him and yet so endeared by his presence that Law feels a bit cheated. He’d had the audacity to feel bad for him, bumbling words and all. No, this guy was just fucking fine wasn’t he, with his groupies and lackeys and boot-lickers.

“Eustass,” he calls out, and there’s this stillness that gives his blood a bit of pleased heat. Eustass has his back to him in that chair, balancing it on two legs before he turns his head just slightly to acknowledge Law.

“You give me back my damn spoon.”

Law leaves just as quickly as Penguin pulls at him, perhaps his feet just a bit faster.

* * *

 

Eustass Kid was dangerous. Crocodile had been in that corner, jewels sparkling even in that dim light. If Eustass was hanging out with Crocodile then Law would be sure to go the longer way to work, the way that wraps around the building and leads him through the bushes.

Except that Eustass is out there propped up against the wall near his door and Law jerks, dropping his keys.

Eustass notices him then, balancing a spoon on his finger.

Law tenses up, jaw stiff.

The bigger guy gets real close to him, nodding the spoon at him thoughtfully for a moment before switching it about and offering Law the flat end of it.

Law takes it, albeit hesitantly, and it’s then he notices the other bag in Eustass’s hand, heavy.

What if it was a head. What if he was just on his way out to burry the evidence of a loan gone wrong?

Eustass shoves the bag between them, shaking it a bit and Law notices a certain clanking to it. He furrows his brow, now late for work and sitting there in an open stretch of balcony with a six foot mobster shaking a bag at him.

Law, slowly, carefully, makes to look inside, mouth opening a bit in disbelief.

Dishes.

This man was shaking a bag of dirty dishes at him.

“I’m not your dishwasher Eustass,” Law says, fear dissipating at the utter ridiculousness of everything.

The man’s gaze sharpens at his name, and then he’s pointing at Law’s door as if Law were some kind of idiot.

He understands after a puzzled moment- he wanted to wash his dishes in Law’s apartment. What would happen if he said no?

He stands there, twenty minutes late for work, a nice summer breeze tugging at him as it pushes at Eustass, and he quietly agrees by opening his door.

* * *

 

“Listen,” Law sighs, “I’m real sorry about this Edward, just, something came up and I don’t think I can come in today.”

There’s a reassuring rumble on the other end, not that Law had expected anything less from the man. Eustass hovers about his sink, scrubbing at dishes with his sleeves rolled up, looking like nothing more than some college kid that had just woken up, sweats baggy and hair disheveled.

Law tosses his phone gently at the couch and huffs, pulling at his tie a little.

“Really, what’s up with you? You have a _Patek Philippe_ wrapped around your wrist- which, by god please take that off while washing dishes- and yet here you are scrubbing at cheap tin and iron. I could assume you’re some fallen aristocrat but then you go flaunting about with Crocodile-“

Eustass seems to pick up some words every now and then, lips twitching humorously at the watch and even more so at Crocodile’s name. He’s nodding as if he understands and Law grumbles in agitation.

He sheds his suit jacket, which he only ever wore as a customary obligation through the finer lobby of the company building, and rolls up his sleeves. Maybe he’d head in later, make up some hours.

Eustass spills some foam over onto the counter and Law sighs. “Eustass,” he says, ready to reprimand him, only for that sharp gaze to stop him. Did he not like his own name? Or maybe Law was butchering it.

“Law,” Eustass seems to try out, a sharp _L_ that is usually just rolled. “Trafalgar Law.”

It sounds so distinct on that tongue, with an edge to it that's regional.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “been looking at my mailbox too huh, big guy?”

Eustass obviously doesn’t understand, focusing on the plate and sponge in his hand instead.

And then Eustass is saying things again, as if pretending Law could understand him, a coy smile thrown in at one point and he just continues on, nodding sometimes and Law stands there, entirely too amused. Eustass points at Law’s dishwasher, shaking his head with a displeased look and jamming his thumb back in the direction of his own apartment.

How harmless he looked there, this guy who probably has blood caked under his fingernails.

“How old are you?”

Eustass does pause at that, blinking before he lets the plate sink and flashes ten soapy fingers twice.

_20?_

Oh shit. Law’s got eight years on this kid.

He tugs at his tie some more. Eustass grins knowingly, before he’s fishing for that plate.

“Anyway,” Law is swallowing, “you should hurry. I don’t want anyone you know knowing I live here.”

Eustass grunts as if he understands, but Law realizes later after changing that he doesn’t. He’s cooking. The great big lug is cooking, stealing his zucchini (that he was never going to use) and his squash and everything entirely too healthy and splashes oil into a pan, heat on high.

Law’s starting to feel a bit funny, as if he were about to be sick.

This was quickly turning into a hostage situation.

He slowly sets himself down on the couch, flipping on the TV for some noise as he sinks back into the cushions.

Eustass was most likely a visiting force, someone infamous with a good name to him. Why he was occupying an apartment complex inside the grunge of the city, however, completely evaded Law.

Eustass rinses a wilting tomato.

They both look up when someone knocks- not on Law’s door, no, but on Eustass’s. The foreigner dries his hands carefully on a small towelette before opening the door, popping his head out. Once the door opens wider in recognition, Eustass leaning against his doorframe, Law catches sight of that man, the one with the greasy hair that had been grabby with Penguin.

He must be the interpreter.

He’s obviously trying to please the man right now, Eustass growling about this and that and Law gets a bit spiteful. If Eustass was big shit around here then why not use it to mess around a little?

“Hey,” Law calls out from the sofa, trying his best to be casual, “mister interpreter.”

He looks to want to ignore him but Eustass is glancing back at the words he can’t understand, brow cocked. That man has to acknowledge him now. Law tries his best not to grin.

“Tell him I expect him to pay for that food.”

He’s turning red, that man, and he looks to want to ignore the civilian order but Eustass is staring at him expectantly and so he coughs out some words and Eustass is grinning.

Is this what drug lords feel like? Ordering people around, chilling with dangerous animals, not a care in the world?

They’re kind of arguing now about something but Eustass has the final word- or rather, the door does and he’s back in the kitchen humming.

Law starts to feel funny again, sinking further into the couch.

* * *

 

Edward leaves the company, and things start to change for the worse. Law doesn’t get paid for overtime. Still he stays after for a healthy portion of three hours, systems down for an unhelpful thirty minutes.

He finds a plethora of paper bags outside his door when he gets home, tripping over one in the darkness.

He crouches down to rummage through them. It’s food, fresh and plenty- instant rice in a tub, pickled cabbage, marinated pork belly, shaved ice and syrup-

Eustass Kid was trouble, trouble that feigned childish innocence.

He finds that to be all too true when roaring laughter erupts from the other side of the plaster wall the next night. Eustass is having some sort of gathering at his house, a gathering of local bullies and pit fighters and Law clutches at his pillow with growing resentment.

He’d stayed after again, had missed the eight o'clock bus right as the early mists of rain had begun to descend. The nine o’clock had puttered miserably, trembling along the road.

What should he do? No one else was going to call the manager, they were all smart, unlike Law. So he bears with it, drifting off until a crash and a bout of muffled laughter jolts him awake. What about the police- no, a small, alienated part of his mind murmurs, not on Eustass. If they weren’t crooked cops then they’d be the kind to lock him away.

He finds himself in front of the kid’s door, swaying a bit in the summer night, just staring. He already felt like going back, like those people that would write nasty letters only to never send them.

He knocks. No one seems to notice. He knocks louder.

Laughter.

In a moment of stupidity he pounds his fist against the door.

Quiet.

Someone is shuffling about, and that door cracks open, a hand yanking him in by the collar of his sleep shirt. A guy is snarling into his face, and Law recognizes him as one of Capone’s men.

“You little shit, how about I break those damn knuckles, huh?”

A great shadow looms over him, and Eustass pries the man’s fingers from Law’s shirt. He’s grunting something that neither can understand, and that lackey is glancing back at the translator who only shrugs.

Eustass straightens Law’s shirt out and gives him a curious look, as if asking what he wanted. Law furrows his brow, pointing at the men, then pointing at his room and then feigning sleep, cheeks red as the room watched him.

Eustass cracks a grin and nods his head in understanding, patting Law’s head as if he were a child before sending him off.

They’re considerably more quiet after that, and Law finds himself worrying about Eustass. Would the others take him less seriously if they thought he was taking orders from a desk monkey? Maybe it was emasculating. Eustass should be careful, he shouldn’t give in to Law so easily.

* * *

 

Law smells blood.

At first, he assumes Eustass has been shot and the blood is merely pooling under the wall somehow.

The truth of the matter is much worse.

The door is open, and Law is there in Eustass’s apartment, watching as the younger boy smokes a cigarette on the couch, cheek splattered in red, a limp body slouched against the wall. It’s someone Law doesn’t know.

There were no weapons to him, no sign of struggle- nothing but a fork in his neck and Law realizes then just how dangerous Eustass really is.

Eustass glances over at him, and it’s chilling how calm he is, texting on his phone.

Law leaves him there.

He doesn’t see him for a while after that.

* * *

 

He’s laid off. They cut five people from his floor alone, the company suffering from heavy drawbacks. He feels used, the projects he’d labored over passed on as finished products just as they pass him his box.

Eustass is slotting his key into his door just as Law arrives, and he looks to say something but Law is in and away before that deep voice can utter a single syllable.

To not be able to afford even this shitty little apartment- he sits in the bath until it’s cold, staring at the ceiling.

He could move in with Penguin, but how could he possibly impose with no means to offer anything. He was a shit cook, and cleaning hardly attested to anything worth the amount of hot water and food he would consume.

Law can hear that dog yapping.

He dries off, mentally rounding off the savings he had as he towels his hair dry- and then he notices it, an odd glint in the kitchen light.

It’s there on the floor in front of his door. He knows what it is two steps in, eyes catching the gold of the watch. Must’ve been slipped in under the gap.

How had he known- no, that didn't matter, but rather _how dare he._

He throws his towel aside and storms outside, watch clutched in his hand, the other pounding at Eustass’s door.

When it opens he flings the jewelry at him, swearing and cursing. “I don’t need your fucking pity! You keep washing dishes with twelve thousand dollars wrapped around your wrist and I’ll continue doing what I do, you understand me you spoiled little shit?”

Of course he doesn’t, but he stands there still, listening to Law calmly until he’s finished. Then he proceeds to hold the watch out in a _you don’t want?_ fashion, and Law is trembling when he jerks his head.

So Eustass shrugs and tosses it into those bushes that clawed up the terrace and that stops Law. All his anger, his resentment, it just kinda _stops._

Eustass tugs him inside and Law finds his eyes on the wall where that dead body had once been. Someone had made Eustass angry, and he’d so easily shoved a fork in their throat for it.

Eustass makes coffee with four spoons of sugar and Law hovers about, noticing an ugly pile of papers on the small kitchen table. They were penned in, some blocked out thickly in black marker.

Eustass waves his mug at it, and Law’s taking a closer look. Expense reports, shipments, bribes, fees, favors and finances.

These were very illegal. And grossly disorganized.

Eustass grunts, and Law hesitantly takes up the pen there- first off all, always use pencil first he wants to say- and corrects a calculation (were those drugs, he can’t tell, some sort of chemical compound).

Eustass watches him, and Law waves weakly at the pile. “You should get an accountant for that.”

There’s this sinister grin and Law wonders if he should ask for a cup too.

* * *

 

Eustass has another one of those gatherings, the air thick with smoke until Law starts hacking, and then he’s got his window open and anyone that wants a smoke has to stand by it, huffing out the window. 

He’s sure to keep it quieter than last, Law pouring over the reports in his work clothes, insisting he look the damn part at least.

They’re overly polite. At first he assumes it’s because he’s doing them a favor, or perhaps they’re always nice before they bump someone off later. He had their entire financial history in his hands right now. There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

And yet, he realizes later, it’s Eustass that’s been keeping them in check.

One of them trips on Law’s chair and he accidentally strikes out a column in surprise and suddenly Eustass has the man’s head pressed flat against the table, growling something and Law considers explaining that it’s fine, that it hadn’t ruined anything- but he recognizes a word amongst the rabble. Eustass is using a word he understands.

_Apologize._

And the man is, quick and bumbling.

Law waves him off and Eustass lets him up. No one bothers him after that.

He doesn’t even notice the silence until he’s glancing about near two in the morning, hair sticking up from running his fingers through it too much.

Eustass is gone too.

He’s alone here.

So he shuffles the pile into something neater and makes to head home until he realizes he doesn’t have his key and he just fucking gives in, refusing to sleep on the couch as he crawls into a sunken bed.

Worst case scenario Eustass will crawl in at some point and they’ll have one of those sappy romance endings where Eustass tenderly strokes his face and tells him he’s the most beautiful person in the world and Law begs for his dick.

Law thinks it’s a talent to be able to laugh at your own jokes.

* * *

 

Eustass had slept on the couch, and Law recognizes the red caked into his neck for what it was.

It’s not Eustass’s, no, but someone else’s blood.

Had he at least used a knife this time?

Law gets to work on those papers, feeling grimy and gross. Eustass fumbles awake come noon but Law doesn’t really comprehend that as he rests his head on his arms, peeping over at that red hair thoughtfully.

Eustass had given him an envelope the night before, for his good work, of course, but Law hadn’t looked at it. He didn’t want to know what his price was, not yet.

Eustass blinks lazily at him, and they just kind watch each other. He garbles out something in his sleep-induced haze, and Law starts to pretend he can understand. _Wow Law you’re so smart, I know it’s rude of me to say this but I’m just so fucking happy you got fired, a big meat-head like me could never have figured out where the numbers had gone wrong- and here I thought I was thousands in debt! Turns out I just can’t carry over the numbers!_

Eustass huffs at him.

“Trafalgar,” Eustass drawls sleepily, “Law.”

“That’s me,” Law responds lamely.

Eustass nods at him, and somehow Law understands. “Eustass Kid.”

There’s that dopey grin. Law smiles into his arm.

* * *

 

 

Eustass brings him more papers later, and then he brings him to a party that’s all glitzy with long diamond gowns and tailored suits and Law gets a bit sheepish around a certain famous artist that likes to stroke his chin.

Eustass keeps that translator of his close, and it’s odd for Law to hear him speaking through another mouth. It's odd to connect Eustass with any form of speech really, odd enough that it makes him a little uncomfortable and so at some point he tugs Eustass away from the man- but the younger boy misunderstands Law and instead of following him he just kind of cups his chin with a hand and gives him a kiss in front of everyone.

That artist smiles behind a fan and Law just kinda blanks out for the rest of the night, blindly following Eustass about as he socialized with names Law knew all too well.

* * *

 

Eustass does it again that night, cupping his face with two hands this time, using teeth and tongue and Law just kind of lets it happen.

His price, apparently, is a hundred grand per session.

He thinks he can live on that.

He thinks he can live with this.

* * *

 

_“You give me back my damn spoon.”_

He’s gone at the insistence of his friend and Kid wonders what it’d been that he’d said. He wonders enough to ask and Crocodile picks at some cards, fingers heavily ringed.

“He asked for his spoon back,” the man says coolly before the translator has a chance to mutter anything, and Kid can feel the itch of a smile tracing his lips.


	4. Summer Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt.

“Listen, you can’t just go around swearing at them.”

“But they’re just so _stupid_.”

“Eustass,” Law sighs, leaning back against the lounge chair, “physics is hard for a lot of people, not just Ace. Calling him out on it is only gonna put a target on your back. Just, print them formula sheets or something. Drill it into their heads, don’t just assume they’ll all get is as quick as you had when you were their age.”

Eustass tugs at the coffee pot, pouring himself a heavy dose. “A target? You actually scared of these little twerps? Bunch of horny boys cooped up in a school with no girls, that’s all they are. Been there, done that.”

Law can’t help but slip a small smile. “Yeah,” he’s whispering with conspiracy, “don’t repeat this, y’hear?”

Eustass turns around, breathing in the caffeine as he props himself up against the laminated counter.  “Go on, you gossip.”

Law leans forward a bit then, inked fingers interlocking in his lap. “Those kids like the closet on the fourth floor, the one they think is vacant. Didn’t take a gander myself, but I’m pretty sure Roronoa was in there with the loud blonde. My ears have yet to deceive me.”

Eustass cocks a brow at him. “What were you doing up there?”

Law mimics a joint. “I keep a few baggies up there in the loose ceiling tile.”

Eustass huffs in amusement, rolling his eyes. “You haven’t changed a damn bit.”

Oh, but he has.

Eustass and Law had gone to this every same school together once, nearly ten years ago. Eustass had been a brute, he’d been simply awful to Law. Had shoved him around, had broken his bike, snipped some of his hair in the back so that he’d had to go and get it shaved the next day.

And Law, the little psychotic bastard that he’d been, had fallen for it hard. He’d taken up smoking to distract himself, had played around with far too many seniors to try and ease the ache in his shoulders.

He’d kept in contact with a few of them after graduation. One of them taught gym here now.

He’d pulled his shit together— moving away from this shitty little beach town had been good for him. The city had been polluted in his kind, and so he’d studied well knowing he wan’t the shittiest thing around.

He comes back for the math position only to find that Eustass had been teaching here for six months already. Eustass had changed too, terribly so. He was more docile now, though no one here knew that. They thought Law was so clever and amazing, to be able to calm the red-head down as he did. They thought he was some sort of miracle worker.

In reality, he’d just been through it all before, and this Eustass was so much nicer than the old one. This Eustass listened.

He liked it, the fact that when something was wrong with Eustass they came to him, they came and told him. Everyone trusted him to handle the monster, and that preened his ego like nothing else.

“In school I was the reason you were always throwing chairs into windows,” Law grins, daring to challenge their past, “now I’m the reason you don’t.”

Eustass pauses. “What’s with this suddenly?”

Law shrugs, stretching as he gets up. The bell rings, just as he’d suspected it would, and he leaves Eustass there against the counter.

* * *

 

“Mr. Trafalgar,” Robin smiles at him as she slides open the door, interrupting his lecture, “there’s a fight on the second floor.”

Law heaves a great sigh. And then there were the downsides of being the trustworthy teacher.

So he tells them to read in silence and he follows the girl towards the flailing legs and hands of two seniors. What was it this time, stolen porn mags?

“Hey hey,” he calls out, “none of this, c’mon, what class are you guys in? It’s Doffy’s group right,” before muttering balefully, “always is.”

“Little cocky shit thinks he knows everything,” the taller one is saying, “strutting around not paying attention like he does.”

Law slides his hands into his pockets. “That’s no reason to push him into a wall.”

The kid growls. “Maybe if he’d payed attention it wouldn’t have happened.”

The other boy huffs, fists balled. Law eyes the abrasive child.

“You can’t just get mad at someone because they’re not as preoccupied with their surroundings as you are.”

“He acts like he’s so smart, but he’s not, he just thinks he is. A smart person would’ve noticed.”

That gives Law pause.

Eustass had said something so very similar once. He’d shove Law into the bathroom door. Thatch had pried him away eventually.

That very same Eustass slides his door open with enough force to startle those kids. It’s never good to interrupt dear Mr. Eustass during one of his lessons. Still, Law pays him little mind, an odd tug to his chest, brow pinched as if he couldn’t quite grasp what his senses were trying to relay.

“What should he be noticing?”

That kid glances at him then, both unsure and annoyed.

“Is that why you pushed him,” Law presses, “cause he’s never paying attention? You want him to notice something in particular?”

“He’s just a brute,” the other boy is spitting out some blood. He’d have to go and see Chopper about that, probably bit his tongue. Law had done that enough as a kid himself to understand the temporary numbness of it.

“And you’re a fucking weirdo,” the kid retorts hotly.

Oh. Eustass is looking at him, and Law wonders if he recognizes the familiarity in this scene. Except now he’s on the outside and everything sounds so different.

“What’s so weird about him,” Law asks, eyes on Eustass though he were speaking to that kid.

“Mr. Trafalgar,” Robin questions, and perhaps the question was a bit inappropriate but things are beginning to make sense.

That kid won’t realize it though, he probably won’t realize it for years. But Law understands suddenly and he’s swearing instead: “You little shit.”

The senior must think he’s swearing at him, eyes wide in horror, but Eustass recognizes who it’s directed at as he slides his classroom door shut quickly.

That fucking bastard. “Both of you, go to class, now— no, you, go the nurse’s office.”

* * *

 

“You immature, underdeveloped, _mentally compromised asshole.”_

Eustass is in one of his student's seats, back against the window of the classroom as he watches Law pace about.

“Always shoving me about, saying I was a clumsy freak. Getting mad cause I never paid attention. Who did you want me to pay attention to, Eustass, huh, what were you playing at? Calling me weird and shit, why was I weird Eustass?”

He comes up in front of the bigger man, leaning over his sitting form with a sudden, maddened clarity. “You _liked_ me. You called me weird because I made _you_ feel weird, am I right? Tell me I’m right.”

“You’re right.”

Law shakes his head, throwing his hands up into the air. “Fucking moron.”

“Yeah.” He breathes it, a small, resigned thing. The kids are lazing about outside in the setting colors of the evening, some heading home for the weekend. A few kick up the dust of the yard with a rubber ball, the muted sound of it drumming with Law's heart. Law stares at Eustass, hands falling limp at his side. “You liked me,” he repeats quietly.

And I liked you.

Eustass gives him that grin, the large one full of teeth, chuckling a little. “Yeah,” he laughs this time, “guess I did. Sorry.”

He doesn’t need to be sorry. Law fights the urge to grab at his heart, to fist the fabric of his shirt where the flutter of the past was trapped.

“I wonder,” Law tries to smile it off, seeing now the boy instead of the man. He speaks quietly into the dying day, the summer colors reminding him of those warm afternoons ten years ago.

“I wonder if that poor girl of yours realizes that she's marrying an utter idiot.”


	5. Exclusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Top!Law.

He’s there again, but is he watching?

Law feints the ball right, then left, Apoo eating dirt after a twist of feet and it only takes two passes between him and Penguin before the ball hits the net and those that’s been watching holler and clap. Someone’s gum pops loudly amidst the noise.

Law wipes at his face with the hem of his shirt, a subtle glance tossed over towards the benches. Kid looks positively bored, the bastard. His lips twitch in amusement. That friend of his, the blonde one, he must’ve dragged Kid into this.

It’s after school and the yard is packed in dust and dirt, students lazing about under shifting trees and shady arches. That blonde, the one with the foreign name that sounded suspiciously like _Killer_ , he’s staring at Penguin like he always does.

Law knows they suck face behind the gym sometimes, but he won’t fluster the boy just yet over it. Penguin was usually a fuck it and ditch it kinda guy.

But Kid, well, Kid’s a freshman, a newbie, and so Law keeps his distance. He drops his shirt just as Shachi comes up from behind and grabs his pecs like they’re breasts.

“Fancy footwork there, ya loser. So when you going pro, huh?”

The goalie continues to make obscene motions and usually Law would just laugh it off, usually most just laugh it off, but Kid is suddenly watching him then, chin propped on his hand in a way that hinted he was still terribly bored.

“Shachi,” Law swats at him, “I know you love me and all but you should at least treat me like a man, and let me tell you, you’re not going to get any man off that way.”

Shachi snorts but pries himself away. "Oh, I know a lot about getting a man off."

It’s an all boy’s school by the sea in a little town just outside of nowhere. It’s not necessarily elite, but junkyard kids don’t exactly get sent here either. It’s just a place, a place that you have to test into and that means that Kid’s got some ounce of intelligence to him.

But he’s of a different breed, certainly. While Law will be prepping for college exams soon, Kid’s just getting himself wet behind the ears. He’s in those freshman classes on the other end of building, the ones where Doffy terrorizes the kids with science and Smoker beats them with rubber balls (though Law wanders by Kid’s homeroom sometimes, sometimes he dips in to hackle Bepo as an excuse to make an appearance).

Kid’s near the same age as darling Bepo. But Law doesn’t look at Bepo like he does Kid.

Law doesn’t want to lay Bepo down and fuck him real good. No, he certainly does not.

“C’mon,” Penguin’s tugging at him.

So Law shifts.

They sneak out past curfew later and grab some pizza, the shop owner giving them pointed looks that die down once they fish out some crumpled bills that buy his silence.

“Penguin,” Law mumbles though the cheese and onion, “what’s so important behind me that you can’t look away?”

Penguin snaps to and shoves his dripping, greasy slice into his mouth, gagging a little. “S’nothin.”

“It’s that Killer guy,” Shachi leans over to whisper, and Law wonders if he just knows by instinct. “He’s with a girl from town. Just to the right.”

So Law feigns some stretching, hands gripping the back of his chair to get a gander. There he is, smiling down at a raven beauty with one of those classy marks beneath her eye. She’s the pinup kinda girl that shouldn’t be in a small town, the kind that’ll get big someday with their country innocence.

“Law, just, turn around, don’t stare,” Penguin’s grumbling, muffled by the food he was now inhaling.

Law listens to him out of pity. “Not gonna lie, I thought you two were—”

“We’re _not,_ ” Penguin snaps, “it’s just some fun, that’s all. He always comes out here on the weekends, him and Kid, the girls here love them, city boys and all that junk.”

He’s being spiteful, mentioning Eustass as he did, but Law doesn’t hold him to it because there’s a grimace of regret at the edges of his mouth and Shachi looks between them, clearly not getting it. “What’s up? What did I miss?”

“Forget it,” Penguin mumbles, before cracking a small smile. “Hey Shachi, looks like Bepo’s finally coming out of his adolescent hibernation. I imagine his libido is starving.”

They all turn then, and there’s Bepo just down the way, some girl looping her finger into his curly hair, a lipstick smile wide and glossy. “She looks like she wants to eat him,” Law comments dryly.

“No shit,” Shachi whistles, “that Bellamy’s wife. What is he doing with a married woman?”

Law furrows his brow. “He probably doesn’t know,” he hears Penguin say, “in all honesty, _she_ probably approached _him.”_

“I’m going to go fetch him,” Law’s chair scrapes against the tiled floor, “wait here.”

Bellamy could be a good guy sometimes, but he was a real jerk when it came to his woman. And she was a real jerk when it came to her marriage. Law had been caught up in that once, a long time ago when he’d first been shipped here. He was lucky the blonde sailer had never been the wiser about it, or he’d probably be buried under some wet leaves in the forest.

“Bepo,” he calls out, “Bepo!”

The boy turns, caramel curls bouncing and that woman looks at him as if she’s trying to grasp onto a particularly slippery memory. “Come eat with us, we got too much.”

That woman runs her hands through Bepo’s hair again, smile slant now. She was a good two heads taller than the petite boy, and the scene was reminiscent in every way of something terribly wrong. “He’s more interested in eating something else.”

Law blanches, anger licking into his ears and cheeks. “We’re going out to eat?” Bepo asks, and she’s looking at him then, brow raised.

Law pushes past a few people and tugs at Bepo’s shoulder. “I’ll tell Bellamy.” He won’t. Bellamy must know what’s going on, but he’d only ever throttle the kids involved, never her.

“About us?” She asks with a smile. Ah, so she remembers now. He was probably number five out of five hundred.

“That was three years ago. You looked less like a prune then. You gotta prey on the ones that don’t know any better now? You went from budding men to cow-lick boys pretty fast.”

He’s starting to make her nervous, though no one’s paying them any real mind. This street was crowded in a sense that noise prevailed over most things, the karaoke bar just past the turn of the street echoing with the tortured souls of those that couldn’t carry a tune.

The street vendors that flanked the little eateries popped and sizzled, little cloth flaps shifting in the breeze. The bar just beside them was loud if only in the clanking of glass bottles and the flickering, buzzing neon lights, a low tremor of happy people rumbling.

“How’d you shimmy your way into that red thing,” comes an obnoxious voice. Law knows it, Law knows it very well, because before _that_ girl had decided she liked pussy more than dick, he’d been playing around with her too.

Bonney bites happily into some glazed takoyaki, brow cocked at the woman. “I seen you in that two years ago when you were toying around with Drakey boy. After the twins dropped,” she nods at her breasts, “I was sure you’d slow down. I’m surprised you were able to tape them up.”

Law likes Bonney, he really does, he likes her even more now that they're not sucking face.

That woman smooths out her dress, preened to perfection in a matter of seconds. “You all can have a good night, fuck you very much.”

She’s still got nice curves, Law considers dully as she disappears between a throng of people.

"Didn't know you'd been up in that," Bonney gives him one of her little platonic kisses right dab on the mouth.

"I was up in a lot of things at that age," Law drags a hand across his face.

"Well," she smiles cheerily, "glad I could be part of that horny era. Though here you are acting like you’re old. It’s been nearly a year, hasn’t it Law, did I miss your seventeenth?”

Killer is watching him. He must recognize Law, must know he's friends with Penguin and that kinda sets something off for some reason. Kid stands by on his phone, the blue light bright on his face.

"You," Law nods at the blonde instead, "you gotta pick, cause this shit ain't healthy. You’re a sophomore so you don’t quiet get it yet, but you’re either with one person, or you’re with everybody. None of this maybe-I-am-maybe-I’m-not bullshit.”

He won't give him away just yet, just in case Kid is still oblivious. Weren't much wrong with sleeping with boys here, first years knew little of it, sophomores were beginning to understand, by the time you were a junior you've got that itch that just about anybody can scratch. There were the seaside girls, sure, but if your roomie is rolling around with some other guy you steal his headphones and hum along.

But this antsy stepping around each other nonsense, it wasn’t good for anybody. You either lazed about with whoever or you made yourself exclusive or, on the off chance that you’re particularly insane like Uruoge, you swear everybody off.

"Then tell that boy of yours to face commitment." It's Kid, it's fucking Kid, staring at his phone as he were, casually running his thumb along the screen.

What? Killer tells that girl of his to beat it and Bonney chomps down on another takoyaki ball, entirely invested in the conversation now.

"What do you mean," Law tries out, knowing that he's never had a reason to utter that name, "Eustass?"

Kid does glance at him then, that checkered cloth tied about his forehead in a rebellious manner, his school uniform loose and untucked. Gods Law doesn't know what to say to that look, to him, to any of this. Eustass hasn't even spoken yet and he feels the need to retort. 

Kid grunts and Law rakes a disgruntled hand through his hair. "Your friend, he's staring at us."

Penguin is indeed staring, as is Shachi, arm draped over the back if his chair, bewildered. "You said something about commitment,” Law presses.

"Kid," Killer is growling and so Eustass shrugs it off. The blonde glares between them— or Law thinks he's glaring, was hard to tell— before finally vanishing inside the bar with a flourish of hair. They must know Blueno, to be allowed in there while still in uniform.

"Give me your number."

That startles Law a little. "What?"

"Just give it to me."

Oh Eustass, he smiles just a little, there’s a lot I would give you, but you probably wouldn't be so calm about it if I did.

He doesn't ask, doesn't question it. He just does it. And then he watches as that boy disappears into the bar too, three years Law's junior, a freshman that can't possibly understand yet the workings of their little private school by the beach.

He stares out beyond the building where the harsh curve of the world reveals the sea down below, the distant lighthouse searching those blue waters.

* * *

 

Eustass hasn't texted him yet, and he's absolutely helpless in a situation where his wit would usually pluck his courage up. He has no way to contact the younger. And so he stands there, outside class 2-A's homeroom. Bepo, his darling little Bepo, was in there, rocking his head to the music as he munched on a ham and cheese rye.

He'd asked Penguin what Killer had meant, about commitment and all that. They'd waited until Shachi had fallen asleep. They could trust him, they could, but they couldn't trust him to understand. No point in burdening someone who’d been with everyone.

 _Don't worry about it,_ Penguin had said. _I'll do what I want,_ Law had responded.

_Killer wants more than just us._

What could possibly be more than that? Penguin had answered quietly. _He wants something after graduation too._

* * *

 

"Bepo," Law smiles, peeking into the room, "you wanna go to the roof?"

He knows the answer, expects it even as he steps one foot into that room. Bepo plucks a bud from his ear. "Nah, let's eat here Law!"

He loves that answer. And so he tugs on an empty chair. Bepo smiles. ”Penguin's not with you?"

Kid perks up at that, headphones in as well, pencil still tapping away at a book he's reading. He watches Bepo curiously, and Law wonders if he can really hear him. "He's out with a friend right now," Law winks. Bepo shrugs it off and offers Law his vanilla pudding just as he always does. The freshmen kids are polite enough towards Law, sometimes kindly throwing away his trash for him if he’s too preoccupied. 

Except something changes today, something out of routine.

"Hey Kid," Bepo balances back on his seat, "you still want my chips? They're salt and vinegar."

Kid stops his pencil drumming, falling forward on his own precariously balanced chair with a smile. "Sure, but you still owe me a dollar and what, ten cents? How much were these?"

Bepo puffs out his cheeks but hands it over all the same.

"Shaking down the smaller kids, shame on you Eustass. Where's your sense of freshmen camaraderie,” Law can't help but say, knowing he should just enjoy the exchange quietly.

Except Eustass smirks a little. "But you're smaller too, Trafalgar, you saying I should shake you down instead?"

Little punk. Law would love to show him where size really matters.

That night Kid finally texts him. Law doesn't even need to ask who it is to know. He can hear the boy's voice as the words curl in his mind. _Killer's a good friend. I don't like this back and forth that's going on._

He had his suspicions that Kid had wanted his contact for reasons unrelated to his sexual prowess. He's looking out for his friend, how cute.

_Penguin's difficult, but Penguin likes him. So ease up. You know how many people use bed-warmers in this school?_

Killer was older than Kid but they'd come here at the same time, one a newbie, the other a transfer. He might just have to educate him a bit earlier than most, explain what exactly a bed-warmer was. He'd figure it out by junior year anyways. It was like some sort of elitist club. The older you got, the more you were exposed to.

Few prayed on the young stalk, because no one wanted to teach a wet kid how to fuck.

_I get it, benefits of having a bunch of horny guys bottled up in one institution. I've heard about you, you're some kind of favorite, that's why they all respect you so much. Even the freshmen get this weird little inkling that they should be nice to you._

So Eustass knew, huh? He knew that it went beyond Killer, that his seniors were casually sleeping around.

He remembers lamenting his poor choices when Eustass had first appeared, remembers Penguin chuckling, asking why he'd ever go after someone that would never understand until long after Law had graduated. Because Law's life feeds off of his succession of bad choices, that's why.

_And you don't?_

Doesn't he even feel just the slightest urge to treat Law with some respect? It wasn't like the more guys you screwed the cooler you were, nothing of the sort. The school had caught on to the whimsical notion of the sea, had adopted its placated manner. The students here were so lax and carefree that Law couldn't help but give in to the nature of things. He’s never had any problems here, no one has.

He wants to hear Eustass's voice so suddenly it startles him, wants to call him so that he can hear him as he explains the system just a bit more _thoroughly._

 _Not one bit,_ comes Eustass’s reply.

He smiles. He really, truly does. I want to see you under me, he wants to say, I want to see you come undone. I want to know why you paint your nails, and why your hair is so red.

 _Killer should be more chill,_ he sends at first, those angry dots blinking at him as he quickly sends another, _but Penguin should understand him more._

That stops him. He taps his thumb against the case, waiting for those dots to reappear, brow creasing when they don't.

And then Eustass calls him.

He stares at it for a good while, heart in his throat before he swipes, missing the first time and cradling it the second time.

"Hello?" He couldn't have said something more cool?

"Are relationships unheard of then?"

Law wets his lips. Jesus, what's he doing calling him? It's in his ear, the younger's voice, and he can't help but imagine what he must be doing then.

"Not at all. Sanji's been screwing Zoro exclusively since junior year. They're gonna go to college together, bunk together there too."

Kid doesn't seem to know those names but he hums all the same. "And there's Drake and Basil, they've been pretty soft on each other lately."

He lays back on his bed, eyes on the bottom of the bunk above him. Penguin was out with Shachi, getting temp tattoos or something.

"Why're you so concerned," Law speaks up once more, even a moment of silence unbearable, "kinda sickly sweet, doting on his love life like you are. Like you're in some sort of gross rom-com. We gonna band together and engineer some way to get them together? Follow them from the shrubbery?”

Law’s just joking, but not everyone gets his brand of shitty sarcasm.

“He’s not like the boys here, he doesn’t want to just screw around.”

Then what’s the problem? Penguin’s never favored someone the way he favors Killer. He should be all in, right?

“But your little bird doesn’t want that. They fuck, and then they fuck up, and then they fuck again. Getting pretty tired of his bad mood. And the fighting.”

How interesting.

Killer had been by here often enough that Law had always just assumed they were together. Here Kid was telling him that Penguin was the one that didn’t want any labels. So then why was Penguin so upset?

“Terribly interesting, Eustass,” Law finally speaks up, but Kid is suddenly yelling at someone else, moving the phone away so that he sounds distant.

“God _damnit_ Heat, get that thing off of me— _get it off!_ I’m sorry, _what_ kind of scorpion is it?”

* * *

 

"You knew, didn't you, my little bird," Law coos as he drapes his arms over Penguin's sitting form, hulking over him, reading a few lines from his erotica, "you knew I was completely misunderstanding. Here I thought dear Killer was breaking your heart, turns out you're an evil prick."

Penguin sighs, snapping the book shut. He must’ve been mulling it over pretty recently, because he gives right in.

”I don't get him! It was so fun at first, so casual, so _good._ But then he goes and gets attached, and it starts to feel like we're having some kind of guilty sex. Shit it was so good Law, like—”

"So why get mad if he's out with other girls?"

"I wasn't mad," Penguin denies quickly. Law bite this ear childishly.

"You were. You were upset, I know you were upset because you were playing footsie with me under the table.”

Penguin slumps a little.

"Just, he says he loves me and then he goes around with other people," Penguin groans, "and I can't even get it up with Dellinger on his knees. The fuck is this?"

Law spins the desk chair, the dorm quiet except for the creaking of the joints as Penguin's face passes by a couple of times. "It's called karma, my dear friend, and you deserve it. You like him too much, but yet he's not allowed to feel the same. It’s fucked up."

* * *

 

Killer has some chick pushed up against the brick wall and Law tilts his head in interest, trying to measure the gap between them. He was kinda bulky, like Kid, with such nice hair. Penguin had always been the kind to like tugging. Law remembers that from their romp two years ago.

His bird was good with his mouth, Law can understand Killer's infatuation.

He smiles once Killer notices him there at the mouth of that crevice. The bar is blinking beside him, the dessert place with the killer turnovers to the right of them. Good thing Penguin had been too lazy to come out.

"Law," he says simply.

"What's your real name," Law grins instead, "something really foreign right? Something that sounds terribly close to _Killer_ but not quite."

The poor girl is dazed, part of her dress tucked under a breast as her beige bra sticks out, lumpy from groping. "You can tell him," he husks, "it's fine. No point in playing around any more so—”

Law laughs, shaking his head. "I'm not telling him that. Where do you get off being so cocky?"

Killer's watching him, not nearly the animal he looks to be. He's a rather studious person, isn't he, Law realizes. People like him are amazing in bed, because they're the ones that _watch and learn and memorize._ They’re the ones that try to figure you out, probing you every which way.

"C'mon," Law jerks his head up towards the school at the top of the hill. He'd gone out for some ice cream. Penguin was just going to have to be happy with what he got. "Well?"

Killer leaves that girl there, his fingers clenching and unclenching curiously.

* * *

 

"Law," Penguin says slowly, carefully, eyes wide under that darling hat of his, "Law, what are you doing?"

He's there in the doorway, peeling off his jacket. "I'm going to sleep with him, of course."

Killer jerks from beside him, Penguin stilling in his chair. "Law." His voice has that dangerous inflection to it now.

"What, you don't mind, right," Law points out easily, "I mean, you just keep going on and on about how good he is so I figure I'd validate your claims. You tend to exaggerate, remember Wire?"

Penguin's standing up the minute Law moves towards their bunk, though Killer was still rooted by the door. "Law," Penguin says again, as if it's the only word he knows, "you can't."

"Why not, Pen, I have a feeling it's over between you two anyways—”

"It's not! It's just," Penguin swallows angrily, "it's just—”

Law pauses, and Penguin won't look at Killer, his earlier fire burning down so Law huffs and moves to grab at the blonde sophomore, tugging him towards the bottom bunk. "How you like it? I'm open to anything—”

Penguin is seething and Killer is tense, though there's this odd glint to his eye, the one that Law can see. What a gorgeous color.

And then Penguin rips him off, yanking Killer back to straddle Law in a fighting stance. Law grins. "He's mine, you know that Law, you fucking _know that._ You're just being a prick, I know what you're trying to do, I'm not stupid, so what do you want me to say, huh? You want me to say I like him more than I should, cause I've already told him that. You want me to wisen up? Well, I'm working on that okay? Just, I'm working on it."

Law pushes him back, moving past him. "Good, good. My bed's free. See ya."

He doesn't give the little shit any time to retaliate.

He'd stay at that cozy little inn by the riverbed, the one that trickled down from the mountains. He'd rent himself the nicest fucking room there. Maybe the one with the balcony that looked out to sea. The barges were a lovely thing to see at night with their little twinkling lights.

The forest was pressed flush behind the inn, creeping up towards the boiler in the back. Maybe he’d have a good soak, rent the tub for a bit.

"Basil," he stops then. The boy is crouched there toying with his cards, his eyes a bit red.

They're at the entrance of the school, the iron gates partially open. Basil is there propped low against the stone wall, facing outward. "Law," he hums in response.

"You okay, Basil?"

The blonde sifts through that deck some more. "Sure."

Law shuffles between his feet then, weighing out his options. "Okay, Basil," he relents, settling himself down next to the boy, dry dirt matting his pants. It takes a moment before Basil speaks up, quietly.

"What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the stars."

They didn't look like this in the city. Basil doesn't say anything else, not for a long while. Some of the lights down in the town go out, while others flicker on. He thinks there's an antsy fish out there, a lone shadow jumping about irately.

"I'm going to go back in," Basil says eventually. Law shakes himself from his thoughts, humming. "Yeah? Yeah, okay."

Basil taps him on the forehead with a card, muttering something about good luck and Law watches him go.

Maybe it was hard, being in a relationship. But Drake could be trusted, Law knew that much. No one that was as careful as that boy was in bed was a bad person.

"I think I just got an emotional hard on for you."

Law jerks, gaze jumping about before he sighs. "Eustass, what the fuck are you doing in that tree?"

He sees him now, the shadow of a boy, eyes bright with the moon. "Killer said he was coming back with some girl, thought I'd catch the scenery meanwhile. Blondie came by a little later, but I wouldn't know what to say so."

"So you just stayed up there, all quiet like," Law grins, "you creepy fucker.”

Eustass shrugs. “I’m up for a walk. Killer’s gonna be awhile.”

Law snorts, Kid jumping down with bent knees. “Don’t think you need to worry about him.”

“Why,” Kid comes up beside him, “you got him in a body bag somewhere?”

Law can’t help it. He knocks shoulders with the kid like he’s known him forever. “Shut up.”

Kid does follow him though, right up there alongside him as they wander down into town quietly together.

They trail along the last row of buildings, the sea peeking through between every gap and crevice.

“I’m going to an inn,” Law states, “dunno how far you intend to walk. It’s just up there.”

“Kay,” Eustass seems to agree. Law blinks at him. And then he’s smiling something sharp.

“Don’t you know how it’d look,” he’s saying airily, “you going in there with me? They’ll give us the room with the condoms. Won’t that just be a shame, to deprive someone else of a commodity we don’t need?”

Eustass furrows his brow. “You don’t use condoms?”

Law’s next words hiccup, and he’s blinking owlish at the kid. “What? Wait,” he wets his lips, “what are you saying?”

Eustass gives him a wolfish grin one they begin to climb those stone steps, the grass in need of a good trim.

“Might as well get used to it now, eh? What do you say, Trafalgar?”

* * *

 

He got the one with the balcony, but he pays it little attention because _fuck,_ Kid is there shedding his clothes, tugging at his shirt and pants without a care in the world.

“What, getting cold feet?”

Law wants to smack him for that smart-ass mouth of his, but he finds his throat’s just a bit too dry for proper conversation, not when Kid is settling himself down on the edge of the bed with nothing but Crimin briefs on, legs open. “So?”

“How do you think this is going to go,” Law tests him, fingers wiggly anxiously from his sides.

Kid’s brow raises a little. “You’re going to fuck me of course.”

Fuck. Good, that’s good. He gets it, Law had been worried they’d be fighting over who's dick was bigger but here he is, laying himself out for him.

Law softly pushes him back, surprised by his own gentleness. He’s hovering above the boy, his uniform still on as he takes him in. “Anything I should know?”

Kid snorts. “What, you taking if I’m allergic to peanuts or some shit? I’m horny Trafalgar, let’s go.”

Law is on him then, shutting him up as quickly as he can, licking into his mouth, thumb to his lips to he can kiss him all the deeper. His other hand is hard on Kid’s throat, and Eustass in turn is hard against his thigh.

He twitches when Law grasps it through the cloth, watching him ever so carefully for the slightest of movements. Kid’s eyes are dark, his hands out beside him as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them yet.

“You gonna just stare at me?”

Law’s lips quirk. “Just curious, am I delfowering a virgin here?”

Kid grunts, rolling his eyes. “I’m not some suburban class president, I’m from the lower districts of the Grand Line. I’ve received my fair share.”

Law doesn’t like that answer as much as he’d thought he would. “Oh? Your fair share, huh? Take it up the ass a lot then?”

“Not usually,” Kid challenges, and Law stops there, brow knitted in curiosity.

“Just,” Kid tugs him down a bit by the collar of his shirt, eyes on his lips, noses brushing, “was hearing things from the seniors once I started asking around. That you like it like this. If I want to roll around with you then I don’t mind if I’ve gotta shove a stick up my ass, so long as I end up with that same look they all had.”

Law licks at Kid’s lips softly. “You asked about me?”

“Just a little.”

Law starts kneading him through his briefs, Kid’s hand on his forearm as he toys with the boy’s ear. “Just a little? Look at you, playing with the big boys. I hope they didn’t scare you too much.”

He dips his hand under the soft fabric, Kid’s dick warm and pulsing against his hand. He slides his fingers along the skin, up and over the head and back down again. There was a wetness to it already.

“Nah, they were too busy serenading your crazy ass,” Kid answers honestly, and Law bites gently at the boy’s lips, a hand coming up behind his neck and Kid follow the kiss upwards, sitting now with Trafalgar on his knees hunched over him.

“I’m hurt,” Law makes time to joke, slipping out of his shirt, “you’re only in it for my body.”

“Mostly your dick.”

Law’s about to unclasp his pants but Kid’s there before him, fingers deft and quick. Law likes watching him tug off his pants, moving about helpfully before Kid’s head dips down to mouth at Law’s erection.

That startles him a bit. His hands fly to that red hair, twisting into it.

It’s so warm and wet, Kid placing openmouthed kisses along the length of his boxers, tongue teasing him, lapping at him but never enough and Law has to pull his dick out of its confines before he goes crazy, holding it there as Kid starts licking at it for real.

“This,” Kid mumbles against it, his breath shooting up Law’s spine, “gotta admit, this isn’t something I’ve done before, this whole blowjob thing.” His tongue flattens against the underside, and he almost appears to be shrugging. “But whatever.”

Law thinks he’s falling a little in love.

He gasps when Kid decides to try and take him whole, hunching over with his hands ever deeper in that gorgeous hair, hips jutting forward helplessly as Kid grips his hips.

Doesn’t stop Law from trying to fuck his mouth, teeth grit as those obscene noises escape out into the night air, the window still open from the house cleaning. Was he slurping so much on purpose, did he realize how erotic he sounded down there, sucking him off like that?

Law shoves him off, Kid yelping indignantly before Law is crowding over him, hands blindly reaching for those fucking condoms as he pries Kid’s mouth open with his fingers, running two of them along that wet tongue until Kid gets the gist of it.

He fumbles a bit more for that box, swearing before he finally pinches one, tearing it open with his teeth. He watches Kid for a moment there, watches as that slip of pink works around his fingers eagerly, coating them well, teasing the pads as if he were still giving him head.

Kid notices him then, lips quirked in amusement from around those shiny appendages. Law retreats, pulling them away before Kid is jolting from the sudden intrusion down below. That’ll teach the brat. He wiggles them around a little, his other hand working on the condom before Kid is graciously taking it from him, flinching a bit as he rolls it onto Law’s cock with trembling fingers.

He swallows.

“Shit, you realize I’ve been wanting this for awhile,” he breathes, “like, since you got here.”

Kid’s brow piques at that, settling himself back down against the pillows. “Yeah?”

Law pushes that last slick finger in, the three of them moving about as Kid squirms. “Yeah, so you realize, right, the accumulation of it all? From wanting you for that long? Makes me fucking crazy just thinking about it.”

Kid dares him with his eyes, a challenging glint to them. “Show me.”

Fuck. Fuck, he’d have no problems doing that. Law takes his fingers out just as he pushes his dick in, inch by inch by _fucking inch._

Kid is keening, head tossed back, the expanse of his neck taunting as Law grunts, hips stuttering when Kid give him that fucking look again. So he shoves in, Kid calling out with a startled cry before Law’s on him and thrusting, hands digging into the sheets by Kid’s head.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Law’s rambling, “so hot and good for me like this look at you.”

Kid’s body moves unbidden with every thrust, sounds escaping despite the way he screws up his face and attempts to stifle them. Law bites his neck for that, hard and unforgiving.

“Louder.”

He picks up speed until all he can hear is Kid and the bed, Kid’s hands back behind his head now, gripping at the headboard.

Law grabs at his thighs then, shoving them up until Kid’s nearly in half with the way he’s fucking him. That jerks the boy’s volume up a few notches, Law pouring every ounce of the sexual frustration he’s had to suffer since the beginning of the year into fucking him into the bed.

Kid seems to notice this, bleary eyes on Law from between his legs, head to the side and mouth open. He watches Law with a heated gaze, his dick bobbing about, leaking onto his stomach.

Law can feel it, that heat that comes as a warning and so he tugs at Eustass’s dick, the boy moaning and shifting about helplessly, unsure what to do with himself until he’s finally coming with a a twist and a push, his voice sending Law over the edge as he spills into the condom, working through his release as Eustass shudders below him.

* * *

 

Kid has the nerve to light a smoke while in bed, but Law allows it since he knows the boy will be sharing. He leans over, tongue working the cigarette into his own mouth as he puffs on it a little.

“Not bad,” Kid comments idly.

Law smacks him, frowning as Kid smiles, huffing out a laugh.

Kid rolls him over then, Law inhaling the smoke curiously.

“Not bad at all. I think I’ll keep you.”

Law quirks a brow.

“You see, Killer and I are like feathers of the same bird. I don’t like sharing, and I gotta admit,” he leans down, mouth to Law’s ear as the boy holds the cigarette out to the side, “now that I think back on all those dipshits that had a go at you, well, kinda makes me wanna bash their heads in.”

Law snickers, pecking him against the lips. “That’s not how this school works, Eustass. But tell you what. You leave those poor saps alone, and I’ll be your exclusive for my remaining year, yeah? Then we’ll see about after that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a fic rec up on my tumblr too, just a little something something.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: threesipsmore.tumblr.com


End file.
